P- Patience

E- Elegiac

A- Advocacy

C- Cathartic

E- Enjoying Life

Prior to diagnosis, I was having “weird” — I say weird because I didn’t understand it at the time — symptoms that started at the age of 25.

The day right after my husband returned from active duty deployment in Iraq for one year, I started having yellow nipple discharge that later turned into bloody nipple discharge in my right breast.

I was so excited to see him.

We have been together since I was 15 and he was 16. He is my everything! I was relieved to know he survived and now that he was home, we could start our family, and continue to advance our careers.

I was a young registered nurse then, so I had some basic knowledge of medicine, but nowhere near knowledgeable about breast cancer.

I did the best way I knew how to advocate for myself.  I was only provided ultrasounds every six months and that was my attempt to try and catch anything early.

I was told I had very dense breasts with dilated breast ducts along with fibrocystic changes and later, palpable lumps. Of course, I was refused a mammogram and biopsies (insert whiney mockingly voice), “due to age” and that the lumps were nothing but “fluid-filled cyst.”

I was told it was nothing to worry about.

Welp, the lump eventually turned hard, as it was 8 cm in size.

Six years after my “weird should have had a mammogram and biopsy” symptoms, I was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 31.

After my diagnosis, I was assessed for additional pains. They wanted to see if the cancer had spread since I had a positive lymph node.

I did, in fact, have other pains. 

I snowboard (yes, I’m black and snowboard and I’m good lol, learned while I was stationed in Alaska) so I thought my rib pain was from falling. I thought my hip pain was sciatica (went away with yoga by the way). I started to develop a cough, which I thought was allergies.

They gave me a full body scan, CT, and bone scan. This was good because now I would know fully and entirely what my body was doing, instead of guessing and hoping it did not spread beyond my breast.

June 17, 2015, I was diagnosed with stage IV metastatic breast cancer, triple-positive that spread to my lymph node, lungs, left hip, spine, and rib.

Since metastatic breast cancer treatment is lifelong, I did not receive a mastectomy. Medication regimens typically start at the least harsh approach, when possible. Quality of life is the most important.

Now, let’s break down my P.E.A.C.E. 

P-Patience: You must have patience with this disease and with this process. Waiting for results is daunting. Every three months, I must practice this as I get full-body scans to make sure the cancer has not progressed (the treatments I’m on have kept everything at bay.

You must have patience with people and the lack of understanding that treatment is lifelong without remission unless a cure happens.

Patience with my body. Understanding I can’t just pop up and do everything I used to be able to do anymore. I move slower. I’m in pain more. I may feel different from one hour to the next, and at any moment, I may vomit.

E- Elegiac: What the heck does this word mean? It means an expression of grief and sorrow, especially when it comes to death. This haunts me daily. One day I will die, and more than likely it will be from the uncontrollable spread of this disease. It just SUCKS!

A- Advocacy: I feel this is my passion and my purpose. Being a nurse practitioner and a patient has brought so much light. I am an African American woman who grew up poor, in and out of foster care in Washington, DC.

I can’t be silent.

I got diagnosed young with a terminal illness that affects me daily. Things must change because African American women are dying 40 percent greater than white women.

If I’m going to die from this, I’ll die fighting for change. Also, I advocate for foster kids’ access to care, to the underserved communities, and for Black medical professionals.

C- Cathartic: Almost as a continuation of advocacy, I am cathartic whenever I express or tell how I feel about this stupid cancer or anything about my life. I can’t keep my emotions bottled up; I am literally an open book. I learned that at a very young age when I hid my foster care experiences. Even as an adult, I’ve hidden my infertility experiences from people. It served me no purpose to keep this in, it only caused pain.

It feels good when I share my life experiences. I have later found out it helped and impacted someone else’s life positively. Therefore, it is my psychological relief to let it ALL out. Ask me anything. I’ll tell you the truth and provide my honest and open opinion and facts.

E- Enjoying Life: Those who know me intimately understand this is core to my life. My husband likes to call it “la la” land. I have multiple sides to me, but I mostly enjoy life. There will be a time that I will not be able to do anything, so I take advantage of what I can do now, for the now, while I can.

I live in the present.

Finding the silver lining is how I cope. I was once told I was in denial when I got diagnosed because I didn’t react to how others expected. I accepted the diagnosis quickly, knowing that there is a plan, and I can’t control this thing.

So, I choose to focus on the things I CAN control. I am an optimistic realist. COVID has been a challenge to my life enjoyment, but as the months progress, I keep finding my joy of life, even while I was in a cast for 2 months due to a broken foot.

I will not be confined and stop living life.

Because today, or tomorrow, or in 15 years from now, it may be my last.

P.S.

I have a small farm that my husband and I love that gives us a sense of peace as well. I grow various produce, I have 50 chickens, 30 ducks, and two German Shepherds that are the loves of my life. I have fun and supportive friends and family. I enjoy cartoons and video games. My six plus god children help fill the void of not being able to conceive on our own, due to infertility issues five years prior to breast cancer and the inability to adopt.